


Selfie

by rankwriter



Series: Newquay Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Past Infidelity, Pre-Slash, Running Away, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 00:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18324605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rankwriter/pseuds/rankwriter
Summary: Dean's never been one to run from his troubles but being dumped on your wedding day changes things. A quaint hotel, some spectacular scenery, and a cute bartender are the best medicine Dean could hope for.





	Selfie

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be drabble length 500-1000 words. I didn't read the rules until I had finished, oops. Hope they'll still accept it as this is the first thing I've managed to finish in years. Literally.

 

Dean didn’t know why he’d come here; it was beautiful, sure, but also bleak and dangerous. The hotel he had picked on a whim and booked on the sketchy airport Wi-Fi. It looked from the outside like some seventies monstrosity, all white plaster, and blocky balconies, but inside it was warm and welcoming and smelt delicious.

 

The north Cornwall coast was a thing of outstanding magnificence. Rocky cliffs bordered flat, yellow sandy beaches. Huge waves rolled in and ravaged the shoreline in a heady display of power. Even now in the middle of an extremely cold December Dean could see a couple of surfers bobbing in the water waiting for the next big wave. Even though Dean felt like crap and was busy feeling sorry for himself he still found himself admiring their dedication, or was it stupidity?

 

A pretty brown-haired girl gave Dean a key and directed him to his room that was elevated from a normal hotel room purely by its spectacular view. Even through the balcony doors Dean could hear the roar of the waves and he let himself relax and fall onto the bed.

 

He had run. When Lisa had called off their marriage he had packed up the Impala and driven. A road trip, he had thought, would be the ideal way to clear his head. Lisa had said it wasn’t Dean’s fault that she wanted out, but Dean knew better. He just wasn’t good enough. No matter how hard he worked, or how committed he was, it just wasn’t what she wanted. As Dean had driven he couldn’t stop thinking about how Lisa had cheated on him with a lawyer for goodness sake, a mechanic was obviously lacking. Dean liked to think he wasn’t prone to feeling sorry for himself, but all he could think about was how he would never be happy now. Lisa was his last chance.

 

Dean had driven for hours and he found he had circled around and ended back at Kansas City Airport. Dean didn’t fly and he hated leaving his baby (he’d named his car, so sue him) anywhere, so how had he ended up on a plane bound for England. One white-knuckle flight later, jet-lagged and grumpy Dean had hired a car, a stupid modern car at that, bought a map and ended up driving to Cornwall. It had seemed a good idea at the time, he had read the Poldark books that Lisa had left lying around and wanted to see the place for himself. He couldn’t lie, it was stunning and because he had been so scared of flying and then he had to concentrate on driving on the wrong side of the road he hadn’t had a chance to go over the events that had led to this impromptu trip.

 

He had been dressed and ready for the ceremony, his grey flannel suit perfectly pressed and his white shirt was crisp and cool against his skin when Lisa had burst into his hotel room. Her normally beautiful face was red and blotchy and her eyes were bloodshot.

 

“I can’t do this” she had sobbed, and Dean had felt his heart sink. He had known it was too good to be true, that this gorgeous woman would marry him. Dean could admit that there had been a voice in the back of his head telling him that he wasn’t good enough, that she would see through Dean’s façade and move on. He had just hoped that he was wrong. He wasn’t. Dean had felt a whole lot of nothing as she told him how she had met Michael, an attorney, who had swept her off her feet. She had cried as she admitted her infidelity as if it was something that had happened to her, an accident, not something that she had willingly done. Dean hadn’t shouted, or cried, he had felt oddly calm and empty. When he had left the hotel, dressed again in his usual attire of denim and flannels, he had kept moving. Now he had stopped he didn’t know what to do with his life.

 

One step at a time, that was all he needed to do. Firstly he was going to enjoy this spur-of-the-moment vacation, Dean couldn’t actually remember the last time he had gone on holiday, he was a workaholic so sue him. Sitting up Dean rummaged in his duffle to find his phone, turning it on it blew up with messages. Huffing Dean ignored the ones from Lisa and read the top one from Sam.

 

-   _Where are you, we’re worried, I’m so sorry Dean_

 

Dean rubbed his temple and composed a reply.

 

-   Sorry had to get away. I’m OK. I’m in Cornwall and it’s freaking awesome. Talk soon.

 

-   _Cornwall WTF we’ve been worried about you and you’re in Cornwall. Dean!_

 

-   I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, but I just drove and then I ended up on a plane and it’s a long ass way to England. Tell everyone I’m OK and tell Bobby I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. He owes me some vacation time.

 

 

Dean switched off the phone before any more texts could come through and put it back in his back pocket. His stomach growled and Dean wondered when was the last time he had eaten, probably something like twenty-four hours ago. Time to feed the beast.

 

A quick shower and change of clothes later Dean sat at the bar of the cutesy hotel restaurant. It was still early enough that there was hardly anyone around and the couple that was sitting by the window were in white fluffy dressing-gowns, Dean raised an eyebrow and heard a snort from his left.

Turning Dean saw the singular most attractive man he had ever seen. Tousled bed-head hair topped an even-featured face. The man had the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen and plush, kissable lips.

 

“You realize that this is a spa hotel, you’re going to be seeing a lot of dressing gowns around the place.” The man said, his voice was deep and gravelly and it did things to Dean, it made his stomach lurch in a not unfamiliar or indeed unpleasant way.

 

“Hey you’re American,” Dean stated.

 

“Born and bred, Pontiac, Illinois. The name’s Cas.” He said and offered his hand across the bar.

 

Dean reached out and took the hand, it was warm and slightly rough, a workers hand.

 

“Dean Winchester, Lawrence, Kansas.” Cas smiled widely with those full lips and a twinkle in his eye.

 

“…and Dean Winchester what brings you all the way to Newquay? Vacation.”

 

Dean certainly didn’t want to relive the past day by telling the sordid and downright depressing story to the cute man he had just met.

 

“Something like that, I just needed to get away.” Dean sighed and turned his gaze towards the floor to ceiling windows and the amazing view beyond it.

 

“Ah there’s a story there,” Cas raised an eyebrow but when Dean didn’t bite he continued, “maybe later then. So what can I get you?”

 

Dean quickly scanned the menu and ordered a burger and a coffee.

 

Casting his gaze back to the view an idea formed.

 

“Hey, do you have five minutes to come outside and take a photo of me so that I can send it to my brother. He’s been worried about me.” Dean wondered whether he had said too much but Cas smiled and nodded,

 

He picked up the phone and asked someone called Jenny to cover for a few minutes and when she arrived he leads Dean outside. Near the small cliff edge was a decked area, the tables and chairs were all stacked away for the winter period but Dean leaned against the wooden railing and Cas took a series of photos with Dean’s phone. He hadn’t said anything when Dean had turned it on and a series of texts had come through, neither had he commented when Dean ignored them. Maybe people came here to escape, Dean certainly had.

 

Dean suddenly had an idea, “hey Cas come here, let’s get one together.”

 

Cas smiled, wide and toothy and strolled over. He changed the camera to front facing and wrapped an arm around Dean. Cas was a warm line against Dean’s side, he was so close that Dean could smell the aroma of his cologne, something spicy but fresh. Cas held the camera up and they both smiled as Cas took a series of pictures, for the last one Cas planted a kiss on Dean’s cheek. In the snap, Dean looked shocked and Cas looked eminently pleased with himself. The sea in the background was angry and rough, but the color was the exact same as Cas’ eyes. It was Dean’s favorite photo and although he knew it would cause another barrage of texts he sent it to Sam with the title

 

-   Having a great time

 

Sam was going to kill him.


End file.
